“Oh, I can and will. Yesterday, I bought the clause in my contract ruse. But I forwarded my contracts to my solicitor and surprise surprise, the clause Pearl mentioned in her text doesn’t exist. It never did. I didn’t have to come here after all.” She’d been such a fool for far too long.
“And, yet, here you sit, still.” Echo waved dramatically, her gotcha smile firmly in place.
“To tell you that I’m done. No moreGirl Racerfilms.” Saffron slapped her palms together. “Never again.”
“If you back out of one of the most successful action-movie franchises, you’ll never get another acting deal. Not even a dog food commercial.”
“Can I get that in writing?” Saffron tapped the table, wanting Echo to fulfil the wish right then and there.
“I’m not following.” Echo cockily folded her arms over her chest, like a parent dealing with a petulant child.
Saffron splayed her hands on the table. “Let me see if I can get through to you. I don’t want to be an actor. I don’t think I ever wanted to be one. I’m done. D. O. N. E.”
Echo shook her head, implying she now knew the game Saffron was playing. “If you want more money, we can talk. Just tell me what you want.”
Saffron threw her hands in the air and leaned over the table, speaking in a hushed, but livid whisper. “Jesus Christ! I have been. Will you listen to me for once in your fucking life? I’m quitting the business. I will never act again. Not on stage. Not in movies. Not in local theatres. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand the people involved. I can’t stand Pearl. And, I unquestionably can’t stand you.”
“Will you keep your voice down? You’re making a scene. That’s what happens when you grow up with drunks as parents.” Echo tapered her eyes, grinding her teeth.
“You can be such a fucking bitch.”
“Is this about the woman in Sandy Cove? The one you took for a ride on your motorbike. I’ve seen photos of you two all over social media. This is my fave—” Echo whipped out her phone, clicking on a photo of Saffron and Kirsty at the Harbour Bar, both leaning over the table, looking like they were about to kiss. Saffron hadn’t seen the photo, but she’d trade her millions to go back in time and stay in Sandy Cove.
“This is about me wanting to live my own life.”
“Please. You won’t be able to survive without Pearl and I guiding you every step of the way.” Echo walked two fingers on the table. “You’ve always needed someone like me by your side or you’d fall apart.”
“If you say one more word to me, I’ll stand on top of this table and tell the world the truth. I can’t stand you, Echo-Fucking-Black. We are not a couple. We were and it was one of the worst periods in my life. Now, I just want to be free of you.”
Echo started to speak, but Saffron stabbed the air with a finger. “Not one word.”
Echo shut her mouth, her eyes filling with hatred.
“There’s probably a hundred actors who would love to fill my shoes. Hire one of them for your precious series. I’m going home to Sandy Cove.”
Chapter 25
Helena had insisted Kirsty take her dad up on his offer of dinner that night. Kirsty didn’t have much appetite, but she also didn’t have the energy to say no. This wasn’t game over yet. Saffron had just gone to London for a meeting. Like her dad said, if she was hers in the first place, she’d come back.
Kirsty had forgotten this part of getting together with someone. The part where you constantly second-guessed yourself and felt like you were going mad. She hadn’t missed it one bit. And yet, on the other side of this madness and uncertainty lay the pot of gold. What was that old saying? No lotus without mud? Right now, Kirsty was covered head to toe.
At least her mum had acquiesced to the fact it was summer: tonight they were eating outside. She was whipping up a speciality paella. Mum bought the paella spice mix every year when she and Dad spent the first two months of the year in their timeshare apartment in southern Spain. Kirsty had offered to help in the kitchen, but had been shooed out by her mother. Now she was relaxing in the lounge with her dad. He’d made a jug of sangria to complete the authentic Spanish experience, which made Kirsty smile. At least they hadn’t produced a straw donkey and started performing the Macarena yet. Perhaps after dessert?
She sipped her drink and coughed. Her eyebrows shot up her head. “How much wine did you put in this, Dad?”
He glanced over the top of his paper. “What the recipe said, plus a glug for luck.” He gave her a grin. “Remember when I taught you to make cocktails? A glug for luck is the secret home ingredient.”
“I remember.” She paused. “You’re doing your crossword late.”
“I was out walking, wasn’t I?” He put his paper down. “Are you feeling any better? Any communication from you-know-who?”
Kirsty ground her teeth together. “Not yet.” She said it like it meant nothing, but it didn’t. Saffron had texted her once since she left, saying ‘Sweet dreams’ last night, but she hadn’t received it until this morning. Since then, nothing. After a steady stream of messages the whole time she’d been in Sandy Cove, Kirsty wasn’t sure what it meant. She was going with thejust busyexcuse. She wasn’t focusing on what Saffron might be busy doing.
She took another glug of her sangria. This time, the strength pleased her.
“Here’s one you might know. Fourteen down. Singer and performer, son of musicians Loudon and Kate. Five letters.”
“Rufus,” Kirsty replied.
